The 100th Annual Hunger Games
by blu317
Summary: Shortly after Katniss Everdeen's death, the Capitol regained rule and the Hunger Games continued. Now, at the 100th Annual Hunger Games, which is the fourth quarter quell, President Finn will announce the shocking twist. No one can volunteer for tributes. This change affects Dawn, Thomas, and many other teens across Panem.
1. Chapter 1

~ **This is my very first fanfic! Enjoy! ~**

* * *

I stare out at the sea, breathing in salty air. I close my eyes and listen to the waves lapping over the sand.  
This peaceful place is the only place where I can feel tranquil. The only place where I don't feel threatened by the  
Peacekeepers watching my every move. On this shore, feeling the sand between my toes and the wind running  
its fingers through my light brown hair.  
"Dawn!" hearing my name snaps me out of my daze, and I stand up and look around. Thomas, my dear  
friend, is running towards me, kicking up sand in his wake. When he reaches me, he his breathless. "You have  
to hear this!" he exclaims, excitement in his sea-green eyes.  
"What is it?" I ask calmly, brushing sand off of my clothes.  
"See for yourself!" he grabs my arm gently and leads me away from the beach. Soon enough, we are in  
the Plaza, standing in the back of a huge crowd. Thomas lets go of my arm and gestures to the large screen in  
the front.  
After a few long, painful minutes, a large, grisly man walks onto the stage and clears his throught. He picks  
up a microphone and puts it up to his scruffy face.  
"Citizens of District 4, I am pleased to announce that your district is hosting the 100th Annual Hunger  
Games!" he bellows in a deep voice. Many people in the crowd cheer and pump their fists, but a few of us are  
silent. We all know what this means, but very few take it seriously. Despite Thomas's earlier excitement, he has  
now gone pale. He was expecting an event announcement, probably. He loves the festivals and celebrations.  
Hosting the Hunger Games is an honor, but it means terrible things for an unlucky district will have to  
offer one more tribute this year.


	2. Chapter 2

"Thomas, can we leave?" I whisper, tapping his shoulder. He shakes his head 'no'. I feel as if there isn't  
enough space to breathe. I have been claustophobic all of my life, and crowds are a constant neusance. Everyone bumping into each other, people breathing down your neck. It drives me absolutely insane.  
"So, as you all know, you have to prepare for the opening banquet." the speaker says, gesturing to us. "For all of you ages thirteen and up, you will have to report here every morning." he puts the microphone back  
on the stand and walks down the stairs into the crowd below. I think this is odd for him to do this. Most speakers have an upbeat attitude and say something stupid at the end like, "Happy Hunger Games!" or, "May the odds be ever in your favor!".  
"Come on, let's go," I whisper urgently, feeling as though the crowd is pressing on me. Thomas nods  
and leads me out of the Plaza. Once I am out of there, I breath in air that is not clogged with warmth and sweat.  
"This is terrible. Who will be the extra?" I ask, speaking softly.  
"I don't know. You won't be chosen, though, I assure you. Even then, someone is bound to volunteer." he rolls his eyes, and I laugh. District Four is a carreer district, so almost everyone is anxious to participate. Even if it meant death. "Anyways, we have hard work ahead of us. We're both fourteen, so we have to help make food. I don't mind, though. I can probably manage to sneak a loaf of bread or two."  
"Yeah, but I normally spend my mornings on the shore. And after we help out, we'll have to go to  
school." I say sadly, and Thomas puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles.  
"You'll be alright,"

That night, I lay in my bed, not able to sleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I see either my death...  
or Thomas's. I sit up, and it is so dark that I cannot see my hand when I put it up to my face. I clumsily  
walk to my bedroom door, stumbling over everything. When I walk through my house and outside, I am  
blasted by a cold wind.I quickly shut the front door, hoping that it hadn't woken up my parents. I sit down in the sand and stare up at the stars. This is where I want to be for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, in the winter months, it is too cold to be out here.  
After about an hour of enjoying the peace, I go inside, hoping to find sleep. When I lay in my bed,  
it finds me immediately.

For the next few weeks, I am worked to the bone, preparing food for the opening banquet. Occasionaly, Thomas cracks a joke, keeping me from going crazy. Those small moments happen throughout the weeks.

The day of the reaping comes. I force my eyes open and sit up, groggy from not getting enough sleep. I am not excited for today, but I'm not panicking, either. I am known for being calm, but what people don't know is that bravery does not come with it for me. I normally hide my fears.  
At 8:30, I start to walk to the Plaza with my parents. My mother is on my left side, and my father is on my right. Their faces are grim, and I expect that they will be that way every reaping until I turn nineteen. But for now, I can still be chosen to be a tribute.  
When we get there, the event is just about to start. I look through the crowd, trying to find Thomas. He will be able to comfort me, like he has for the past two reapings. After five minutes of looking, I still cannot find him. The same speaker we had weeks ago walks up the steps onto the stage, and I realize that I have no more time to search.  
"As you all know, this is a Quarter Quell, so President Finn has a new twist on the games." the speaker makes a face, and I suppose that he's trying to smile. When he gestures to the screen, he starts coughing so violently that I think he's trying to hack up a small squirrel. He finally stops. "Sorry, I have a cold,"  
We all watch as President Finn's face shows up on the screen.  
"Let's find out what's in store for the 100th Hunger Games!" he says, and I begin to think he is the most twisted president we've ever had. He holds up the envelope and opens it as slow as he can. The minutes pass by, and everyone grows anxious. When he finally tears open the envelope, he takes out the card and smirks. "No one can volunteer for tributes this year. Whoever is chosen goes to the Hunger Games." Everyone stares, white-faced, at the screen, unable to comprehend this. President Finn clears his throat. "No exceptions,"


	3. Chapter 3

**~Sorry this chapter is kind of short. Please review! I don't want reviews for fame, I just want them to know if I am doing okay so far with this story.~**

* * *

My hands get clammy as I realize what this means. This is probably the Capitol's way of saying that there is no hope. That when the Capitol wants you, no one can save you. Volunteers have given us a sense of safety over the years, and I realize that this won't be much of a change for the poorer districts. A young, spunky woman steps up to the stage. Her short hair is blue, and her colored contacts are yellow. I recognize her as Lilae Summers, district 4's escort. She puts the microphone up to her electric green lips and speaks in an annoying capitol accent.  
"Now it's time to choose our tributes! There will be one extra drawn out of the girls' names! May the odds be ever in your favor!" she walks over to the glass ball with the boys' names. "The ladies first thing is nice, but it's way overdone. I think we should give the gentleman a turn first!" she puts a hand in the bowl and hums while she mixes up the names. She closes her eyes and draws one envelope out. She clears her throat, opens her eyes, and opens the envelope. She takes the slip out. "Thomas Peterman,"  
My face turns pale and I look through the crowd, frantic to see where he is. No volunteers this year. Thomas has to go to the Hunger Games. I finally see Thomas when he walks up onto the stage. Surprisingly, he does not look fearful. If anything, he looks brave, like he always has been. He isn't smiling, but he holds a serious expression and holds his head up. There will be no tears.  
"Now for the ladies!" Lilae Summers squeals, walking over to the other glass bowl. She does the entire, long, process again and says the name clearly for all to hear, "Mia Anderson," so it isn't me. I see a blonde girl walk onto the stage. She is brave as well. I barely recognize her, because I only see her fishing with her father. "Don't forget, since District Four is hosting the games, one more tribute will be chosen!" she picks another name out of the bowl. This time, she takes a painfully long time opening the envelope. You could almost feel the tension in the Plaza. My parents' grips on my hands  
tighten. "Dawn Darson," the name my parents fear the most is spoken by Lilae Summers. They hesitate before letting me go. Now, it is my turn to be brave. It feels like an eternity as I walk to the stage, and every head turns to look at me. I am known as being calm, peaceful, and timid. Now I will have to speak out to win the favor of the Capitol, and I will have to face 24 other children in a fight to the death.  
When I am onstage, I face the crowd before me. My legs feel weak, as if they can no longer hold me up. I stand next to Thomas, and he glances at me before Lilae speaks again.  
"Put your hands together for the tributes from District Four!" she says into the microphone, and it is followed by applause, as if they are congratulating us on our deaths.


	4. Chapter 4

Later, when we are allowed to say goodbye to our friends and family, my parents say nothing. I suppose they are afraid that they will cry, or that they will be tempted to go against the Capitol. None of my 'friends' even visit me. I have never, ever, felt so alone.  
When we get onto the train, Thomas sits next to me. Neither of us are willing to eat, while Mia wolfs down her lunch. My mind wanders off, and before I know it, Mia is done with her meal.  
"If you need me, I'll be in my room." she says daintily, as if she hadn't just eaten enough food to feed a family. Don't get me wrong, Mia isn't fat. She has muscle to make up for it, and that makes her a dangerous competitor. I pity the poorer districts, who don't even have enough food to keep their stomachs full, let alone get ready for the fight of their lives. Mia walks out of the room, and Thomas lets out a sigh.  
"What's wrong?" I ask, worried that Thomas will give up. So many tributes do, and think that their lives are pretty much over. I can't stand to let him do that, though. If he does, I don't know how I'd cope with it.  
"Nothing," he says, and he half-smiles, "I'm just tired," as soon as he says it, I know he's lying. After knowing someone for ten years, you start to notice when they are telling the truth.  
"You can tell me anything." I say softly, and it's true. I look down at my empty plate, as if I was talking to it instead of Thomas. I look at my reflection on the pristine plate. I suddenly look older than I did this morning. I think it's because death seems to be looming above me, and I am more serious than usual. The blue eyes in my reflection stare back at me as I wait for Thomas's  
answer.  
"I wish I could," he replies, and I look at him. He purses his lips. "I'm going to my room." he stands up and walks away, leaving me here to wonder what the problem is. I sit here for a while, thinking. Normally, nothing can mess up Thomas's joyful attitude. I stand up, wanting to go to my own room.  
When I get inside, I resist the urge to press every single button in the room. I'm not even sure I will be able to, even if I have two days to do it. I decide that it would be best to clean up, for now. I scroll through the different styles in my wardrobe catalogue. I finally find one with a simple, yellow dress. I lay the dress out on the bed and get in the shower. There are so many options for soap and shampoo...I wish that there weren't so many choices. I finally choose, and after I'm done, I feel cleaner than I ever have before. I put on the dress, and it's not that bad. It goes down to my knees, so it's not skimpy. It has a rose on one of the straps.  
I sit on my bed and select different places to view from the window. As I press the button on random over and over, I almost skip a place I have known my entire life. The shore. I watch the waves and hear the seagulls. I almost feel like I'm at home right now. But I'm not. I'm about to enter an arena where almost everyone inside wants to kill me. There's a knock on my door.  
"Come in," I say, still viewing the window screen. Thomas walks in and sits down next to me, not saying a word. I enjoy the silence while it lasts, because I'm not sure I want to hear what he is going to say when it ends. We just sit together, our shoulders touching.  
"I'm sorry," he says finally, breaking the silence. " The Capitol may try to put us against each other, but I just can't. I'll never kill you. No matter what." I watch, shocked, as he stands up. No one has really ever cared about me that much. I stand up and wrap my arms around him.  
"Thank you," I say quietly, and I let him go and he walks out the door.


End file.
